


Mitzi Knows Best

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature Fic, House Elves, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-22 22:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4853495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mitzi had always looked after Draco, ever since he was a newborn baby -- that was her job, and she would continue to do so, even if Draco didn't seem too pleased with Mitzi's attempts to help him.... But anyway, Mitzi knew best: she would make Draco happy again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mitzi Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

  * For [This Bloody Cat (lulum26c)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=This+Bloody+Cat+%28lulum26c%29).



> **Warnings** : Switches POV. Unusually overbearing House Elf. Possibly too OOC Harry. (YMMV on that one!)
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : This creation is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made, no copyright or trademark infringement, or offense is intended.
> 
>  **Notes** : Dear this_bloody_cat, I think I got everything you wanted! It wasn’t too hard, since your request was not only adorable but concise, cohesive and suggestive. When I read your prompt, I wanted it right away. The plot you suggested flowed quickly from there. You give great prompt! Many thanks to stgulik and sesheta66 for their beta work!

X x - x - x X

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

X x - x - x X

Mitzi couldn’t understand what was going on. Mistress Narcissa had brought Young Master Draco home from Hogwarts a bit earlier than usual, they both ate little and slept much, and they would only say that Master Lucius was "detained." Who would dare?

Worse, Master Draco spent his waking moments staring at walls, and Bibbles kept finding Mistress Narcissa crying. _Crying_. Until this summer, Mitzi had seen Mistress Narcissa cry exactly once: the morning Young Master Draco was born. Master Lucius had tenderly drawn the mistress close to him while she held their new baby and beamed with exhausted pride. When Mitzi was called in and presented with her beautiful new charge, Mistress Narcissa had explained as she cried a few small, dignified tears.

"The Malfoys are the best family, and our heir is the best of the Malfoys. Mitzi, you are to always put Master Draco’s needs before your own. You are to protect him, adore him, and pamper him as you would have Salazar Slytherin himself."

Mitzi, of course, had understood her responsibilities perfectly, and Young Master Draco had grown strong, tall, and even more handsome than his parents. He earned excellent marks, his Quidditch was athletic and bold, his magic was strong and sure. His beauty was perfectly formed, luminous, and bewitching. Mitzi took great pride in both his appearance and his accomplishments. The heir was, indeed, the best of the Malfoys. As Mitzi had raised him to be.

Yet now, nothing made sense. The nasty, dirty men and the disgusting snake were gone. The manor was fresh and sparkling again. The mistress and heir were home, and the weather was perfect. The gardens even looked exquisite. So why weren’t the Malfoys rejoicing? Why did they invite no visitors? Why did their finery hang ignored in the armoires? And why was Master Lucius _still_ not home?

Mitzi scolded Flarn until each and every meal he cooked was a perfect specimen of culinary delight, but the Malfoys still ate so little.

Mitzi, Bibbles and little Piper scrubbed, cleansed, fixed and _perfected_ the manor until all the spiky, irritating magic was gone, the furniture was rearranged and the portraits stopped talking about the bad times and kept remarking on how lovely the rooms and gardens looked. But both Malfoys still stayed hidden away, staring at books instead of reading them, or sleeping when it was not time for meals. Sometimes, even Flarn’s cooking couldn’t rouse one of them.

Mitzi tried to interest Master Draco in his broom, in his horse, in his violin, and in writing or even inviting his friends. Bibbles cleaned all Mistress Narcissa’s jewelry, gowns and robes until it hurt Mitzi’s eyes to look at them. Bibbles and Flarn’s daughter Piper weeded the garden until her little knees turned brown. But no matter what the elves did, the two Malfoys stayed under the covers and slept their days away.

Finally, an owl came early on a sunny Thursday morning. Ignored, it fluttered against the owl-alert wards on Mistress Narcissa’s window until Bibbles arrived from the other side of the grounds to let it in. But when Mistress Narcissa finally sat up in bed to read the scroll, she called for Mitzi immediately. 

"Mitzi. Master Draco and I have been summoned for our trials. We are to report to the Ministry at 9:17 a.m. tomorrow. We must be ready. We have but one chance to keep ourselves from a lifetime in Azkaban."

Incredulous but obedient, all four house-elves worked all day and night without stopping, without fail. Bibbles helped the mistress choose exactly the right clothing for both of them – stately but subdued, expensive yet understated. Dark grey for him, navy blue for her. Then she reinforced and perfected every stitch, cleaned every millimetre, shined every button. Flarn managed to feed both of them three times that day. He even got breakfast into them again the next morning, somehow. Mitzi suspected hypnotism, and approved. Little Piper filled the house with beautiful flowers from the gardens and gently wafted their delicate smells throughout the Manor until Mitzi could hardly keep herself from taking a bite.

As for Mitzi, she cut and styled their hair, manicured their nails, enhanced and deepened their sleep, cleaned and polished their wands, scrubbed the Floo, and contacted Harry Potter.

X x - x - x X

The moment Mistress Narcissa and Master Draco returned home from the Wizengamot and informed the staff that they would not be going to Azkaban after all, the other three house-elves allowed themselves to react. Bibbles burst into tears and threw herself to the floor near the Mistress’ feet. Flarn stopped holding his breath and released a noise that sounded something like a cross between a sob and a burp. Even tiny little Piper laughed out loud with joy.

Not Mitzi, though, of course. While she nodded gravely toward Mistress Narcissa and Master Draco, she refused to so much as roll her eyes at the other elves. She was far too disciplined for such nonsense. 

And as far as the young master and the mistress went, well. She’d never been even slightly concerned. Of _course_ they hadn’t been sentenced! Who could imagine such a travesty? Such a _miscarriage_? She’d have had to be delusional to think any such thing. Malfoys were better than other Wizards. They did _not_ go to _prison_. And Malfoy house-elves were better than other house-elves, too, as a matter of course. Better Wizards had better house-elves. That was obvious. And Mitzi’s excellence was a big part of why the Malfoy heir and his mother had returned home.

Mitzi had always looked after the heir, ever since he was a tiny, newborn child. Mitzi’s responsibility to the Malfoy family was the _most_ vital of all familial and household duties.

She took it extremely seriously.

Master Lucius being "permanently away on business in the North," Mitzi felt her newly affirmed responsibilities and charge even more keenly, and she decided to bundle Master Draco off to bed immediately. He looked… tired, she decided. Which was only natural; he had been through a terrible ordeal. She hustled him away to his rooms, _snapped_ him from clothing to pyjamas, _snapped_ his bed clean, fresh and turned down, _snapped_ his room dark and welcoming, and – even after all of that – found she still needed to tell him what to do. 

"Get into the bed now, Master Draco," she said firmly. He still looked a bit spell-shocked. He sat on the edge and looked at her blankly. "You will feel better in the morning, Master Draco. Flarn will make your favourite breakfast, and Bibbles will make sure your horse and broom are both ready, should you wish to ride."

"Isn’t it only six in the evening, though?" Master Draco asked her. "I know we were there for hours, but...." He trailed off and looked down at his bare feet. Impatient to get on with her duties, Mitzi _snapped_ again, putting her young Master in his bed and under the covers.

"Mitzi?" he said, sounding almost annoyed.

"Sleep now," she said dismissively, and peered at him. "I will check on you in fifteen minutes. If you are still awake, I will send you to sleep with a _snap_!"

"Yes, Mitzi," Master Draco said, sounding resigned and tired. He rolled away from her and pulled a pillow to his chest. His breathing evened out and slowed quickly, and he was asleep when she checked on him fifteen minutes later.

"Very good," she thought, and went to learn exactly what had happened so she could best help him.

X x - x - x X

Flarn and Bibbles were rather helpless without explicit instructions, but Mistress Narcissa always had them well in hand, so Mitzi _snapped_ herself over to the Wizengamot to pick up a transcript from both the mistress’ and the young master’s trials. They weren’t yet available, as Master Draco had only been acquitted forty-five minutes previous. But when Mitzi let herself in to the dungeon room full of house-elves typing up trial transcripts, it didn’t take her long at all to find the one typing up her master’s transcript. Of course it didn’t. The other house-elves pointed right at him. Mitzi stood next to his typewriter and stared at the side of his head until he finished. It didn’t take long at all.

Once back at the manor, Mitzi read through the transcripts very quickly. They were frustratingly short on the information she sought. So, with a few tiring but forceful and determined _snaps_ , she was able to add several pages of notes to the end of each transcript. The secret thoughts and hidden deliberations of the Wizengamot Elders as they had made their decisions were most enlightening. They gave Mitzi a much fuller picture than the official trial transcripts alone. 

The information most important to all those who had set Mistress Narcissa and Master Draco free to return home and live again, was that Harry Potter could not possibly have won the war without both the mistress _and_ the master. It was, Mitzi could see when she read between the lines, as though the mistress and Young Master Draco had won the war for Harry Potter. As it were. Or at least _with_ him. 

Going back to look carefully through Potter’s testimony, Mitzi could see that Potter had really (nearly) said all of that himself.

"Good," Mitzi decided. This worked perfectly with the plan she had hatched while waiting for the mistress and Master Draco to come home, acquitted. She hadn’t made a life-long habit of cracking the spells on Young Master Draco’s many childhood and school diaries for nothing. Really, compared to Master Draco’s best security spells, the Wizengamot’s secret deliberations were duck soup.

Mitzi was well aware that being found not guilty in the eyes of the law was one thing. Being found worthy again in the eyes of the public was surely another. The Malfoys would be needing assistance with that, but now she knew how to obtain it. Everything was really coming together quite nicely. Mitzi smiled very briefly at her own pun and went back to work.

X x - x - x X

When Mitzi woke Master Draco bright and early the next morning, she informed him of the owl "he" had sent Harry Potter that morning.

"You took the liberty of requesting his presence at tea today," she told Master Draco as she simultaneously _snapped_ open the curtains, ran his hot bath, ejected him from the bed and removed his pyjamas. 

"He needs to return your wand, and you need to be thanking him for his testimony. Warmly. Now, wash your hair most well and leave it loose."

"Wait… what did you say?" Master Draco sounded alarmed, and Mitzi sent his feet moving faster toward his hot bath. 

"Young Master heard me," she said dismissively, and absently _snapped_ an anti-drowning charm at him as she levitated him into the large bath.

"Mitzi!" Master Draco yelped, but Mitzi merely chuckled as she closed the door behind her. He had heard her.

Mitzi checked on Bibbles, who reported that Mistress Narcissa was also bathing and that her chambers would soon be spotless again. Flarn was halfway through with cooking breakfast, and little Piper was working hard to get the table set, short though she was. 

Passing slowly through the house, looking for untidiness and _snapping_ away the very few messes she found, Mitzi considered her plan.

X x - x - x X

When Harry Potter arrived at the Malfoy’s gates at 4:13, Mitzi was there to meet him. He was exactly on time. Which is to say, since she had wanted him to arrive at 4:15, she had told him that tea started at 4:00. Not that he knew it was she who had written the letter.

Mitzi had worried that Mistress Narcissa might require a _Cheering Charm_ in order to manage hostessing, but when Mitzi presented a surprisingly flustered Harry Potter to the mistress and Master Draco, Mitzi saw that her fears were unfounded. Mistress Narcissa was still the gracious and consummate hostess she had always been, and Mitzi almost relaxed.

Until she caught sight of Master Draco. He was fidgeting. Mitzi had taught the Young Master when he was still quite small that the Malfoy heir _does not fidget_. He’d learned it, too.

But he was, unmistakably, fidgeting.

Mitzi narrowed her eyes at him, caught his guilty gaze, and realized he was planning to excuse himself from tea before it was appropriate. Before it was _over_.

So, Mitzi _snapped_ him to his chair. Watching him school the shock off his face, she straightened her spine in satisfaction. That should do it. The rest she could leave in Mistress Narcissa’s capable hands. At least, for now.

X x - x - x X

"I can’t thank you enough for your testimony," Narcissa said as she poured Harry a cup of tea.

"I, well." Harry said, blushing, "I felt very strongly about it. If Voldemort had known the truth at that moment, if you hadn’t been brave enough to lie to him, well. I don’t know what would have happened, but I assume he would have had someone else kill me, or he would have tried again with a different wand, or something. And then… well."

"Yes. Well." Narcissa said, and frowned. "One doesn’t like to contemplate such things."

Harry took a sip of his tea, then frowned down into the cup. "Pardon me for being very blunt, Mrs Malfoy," he said, too uncomfortable to look either of them in the eye, "but that isn’t what I expected you to say. If I had died, and Voldemort had won the war, then your husband would be free, yeah? Considering how the war ended, of course you’re glad not to be in jail, but… er…." He flushed, feeling like a horrible person. "But I shouldn’t speak to you so rudely in your own house," he finished awkwardly, and took a scone.

"Mr Potter, since you value candid speech, I shall be forthright with you." Narcissa took a deep breath, but as she spoke, it was Draco she looked at. "My parents insisted I marry Lucius Malfoy, and I made the best of the marriage that I could. I did not agree with his desire to ally himself with… that wizard, and I tried to convince him not to. But he took the mark without my endorsement and from then on our future was in jeopardy. The Dark Lord was a megalomaniac and a fascist. He was bad for the Malfoys, bad for the Wizarding world, and bad for all England. He hurt and killed a lot of innocents, and I wish I’d never so much as known he had been born."

Harry took a deep breath and stared, first at Draco, whose eyes had gone wide, and then at Draco’s mother, who looked far paler than she had a few minutes before, with little red blotches sitting high on her cheekbones. The two Malfoys just stared at one another as though Harry was no longer present.

"I am very sorry that Lucius Malfoy will spend the rest of his life in Azkaban," Mrs Malfoy abruptly continued, still staring at her son, "but that is because he is a wizard and my wonderful only child’s father, not because he didn’t earn every day and night of that oppressive sentence with his own terrible choices. He deserves to be there, and England is almost certainly the safer for it, as well. My husband has unequivocally proven that he is incapable of learning from his errors."

"Mum?" Draco said, and Harry thought he sounded a little bit like he was choking.

"But I must apologize," Mrs Malfoy said, and now she looked down at the teacup in her lap. "You did not come here to listen to me speak of such things. You came because… Draco dear, forgive me for not asking before. Why did you invite Mr Potter?"

Not even Harry could miss the wave of panic that rushed over Draco’s face. "He wanted to thank me too," Harry said quickly. "And he hoped I would return the wand I took from him, that, er, day. And I brought it with me, of course." Harry pulled a long, slim box from his pocket and handed it to Draco.

Draco yanked the lid off and pulled the wand out in a rush, dropping the box on the floor. He tried to stand but found himself stuck to the chair, and Harry forced a smile from his face as he watched Malfoy try to to play it off as sitting up taller. His almost shoulder-length hair swung with his sudden movements. Then, he waved the wand toward the scone on his plate. 

" _Persicum_ ," he said forcefully. Harry recognized the spell to turn a scone apricot-flavoured, no matter what it might have been before. Harry’s scone had little bits of strawberry in, and while Harry loved strawberry, he knew not everyone did. _Persicum_ was a spell he’d heard both Neville and Hermione use many times.

Smiling, Draco broke his scone in half and picked up one piece, but he left the other where Harry and Draco’s Mum could see. It was, unmistakably, filled with little bright red bits of strawberry.

Involuntarily, Harry looked at Mrs Malfoy. She was looking at the scone. She looked tense. Harry had been desperately hoping that she would look relaxed and unconcerned. Bored, even. 

Harry looked at Draco, and he looked more than concerned. He looked sort of… panicked. 

Harry stared at the wand he had won from Draco months before. He couldn’t let Malfoy _win_ it back, because of the Elder Wand. 

Draco waved his former wand, much like an eleven-year-old at Ollivander’s. But no sparks emerged.

Harry looked down at his holly and phoenix wand, sitting at his side on the pretty chair the Malfoys had pointed him to. He’d hated being without it, so he deeply sympathized with Draco’s predicament. But he was at a complete loss as to what could be done.

Watching Draco try – and fail – to levitate a small cushion, Harry felt hideously responsible, but even more than that, paralyzed. This was his fault, and yet, without that wand, and mastery of it, he’d be dead, Voldemort alive, the world in flames. So he wasn’t really supposed to feel guilty right now…. Was he?

A house-elf appeared at Harry’s elbow and smiled at him. When he turned to look at her, she leaned in and spoke quietly toward his ear. "If that... museum piece no longer functions," she said in crisp, dignified English, "perhaps Mister Potter would escort Master Draco to a fine wand shop? I’m sure Young Master Draco would benefit from a new wand in more ways than one."

Shocked that a house-elf would make such a suggestion, that a house-elf would speak such clear, "human" English, and that said house-elf seemed to think he should bring Malfoy _shopping_ , Harry stared at her for a long moment before finally thinking of something to say. "Er," he stumbled. "Ollivander…."

Draco turned white. Which, considering how pale he was, was both impressive and distracting. But the house-elf seemed blissfully unconcerned. "There are makers of quality wands in Paris," she said calmly. " _Custom_ wands. Made to order. And it’s lovely there." She bent to tidy the tea things, and Harry was fairly sure he heard her continue: "and very romantic, oh yes."

"I’m quite sure Mr Potter has no interest in going to Paris with me," Draco said stiffly. "Or anywhere." He tossed his head once, sending his hair swinging.

Confused and irrationally insulted, Harry puffed up. This was his fault and his responsibility, and he would take care of it. He hadn’t particularly wanted or expected to go anywhere with Draco, but why would Draco just assume that? Harry wasn’t rude! "It’s no trouble," he said after choosing not to think it through any further. "It’s the least I can do, really. I couldn’t have won the war without that wand, and now you can’t use it anymore. I should help you replace it."

"That’s really not necessary," Draco began, shifting side to side. He was clearly still stuck to his chair and eager to get out of it.

"But I insist," Harry said, now truly annoyed. "I’m responsible."

"That’s settled then," Mrs Malfoy said mildly, looking at, strangely, the house-elf. "You shall go as soon as Mr Potter is able to get away, and should you need to, you shall stay in our flat. It’s on Rue à la Caché Vue, in the heart of the Wizarding district."

Draco clearly intended to object again, so Harry interrupted him. "I can leave for Paris in, er, in half an hour!" he nearly yelled. Draco just pissed him off no end. How _dare_ he assume Harry didn’t want to take him shopping? Or spend a weekend with him in Paris! Or sleep near him in his Paris flat!

It wasn’t until a fuming Harry had gone home to pack a small bag, and returned via the Floo, that he realized something very important. He did not, actually, want to take Draco shopping. Or spend a weekend with him. Or anything else. Not at all. Fit, prickly, angry, straight boys were not at all Harry’s type.

It was, however, far too late to say so. 

"Mitzi will go ahead to open the Floo," Draco said, slipping his useless wand in his pocket. Soon, Harry was in Paris.

He could handle this.

X x - x - x X

Once Mitzi had gotten them both settled in, they headed out to try to find a wand shop.

The Wizarding district in Paris was clean and bright. Not many people were about, but Draco asked someone for directions and they headed around two corners and up a small set of steps. They found themselves in front of a very staid and expensive-looking wand shop. A staid, expensive, and _closed_ wand shop. 

"They closed 20 minutes ago," Draco said, reading the sign on the door. "They won’t be open again until Monday morning." He looked rather despondent, and Harry told himself that it was over the prospect of a weekend without a wand, and had nothing to do with Harry.

"Er," Harry said, faltering. "Wanna do some sight seeing?"

"Wouldn’t you prefer to go home to London and try again on Monday?" Draco said, turning to Harry and looking down, incredulous. Harry stepped back slightly, so as to feel a bit less short.

"Nah," Harry said with false bravado. He couldn’t have explained it, but he felt completely unable to make Draco go home without a working wand. "Never been to Paris, and you have a flat." He shrugged. "And you apparently speak French. Seems like a good opportunity."

Draco just stared at him, so Harry grabbed his shoulder and pushed a little. "C’mon, Malfoy. Scared?"

Draco looked surprised, then angry. Then he laughed. "You’re something else, Potter," he said, and started walking.

"Let’s duck into this alleyway, take off our robes and shrink them," Malfoy said right after they left the Wizarding district. 

"All right," Harry said without hesitation, and Malfoy nearly wrenched his neck to stare in shock, from the look of the way he moved in response. Harry didn’t even grin snidely, though. He just followed Malfoy into an alley and hid his _shrunken_ robes in his back pocket. They barely changed the outline of his backside. Malfoy assured him so.

Content to let Malfoy lead for once, Harry let the city flow past him. It was strange how he felt no competition or tension regarding their path. He knew nothing of Paris and Malfoy apparently lived there in some fashion. They both knew it, and it didn’t feel like a challenge to Harry’s prowess in anything at all. It was surprisingly relaxing to let go of their normal method of interaction.

"Let’s turn left here," Malfoy might say, and they would cross the street together. 

"Let’s sit on this bench for a moment," Malfoy said. "I have a rock in my shoe." 

"Didn’t we pass that Museum before?" Harry asked once. He actually thought they were seeing it for the third time. "The Musée de l'Erotisme," he said, struggling to pronounce French.

"Maybe," Malfoy said, looking away from Harry’s face. "I don’t usually explore this city without my parents."

"Okay," Harry said, mostly unconcerned. But he slowed down to look in the window anyway.

They walked for hours, over bridges and through parks, down fancy streets and past enormous mansions, speaking very little but looking at everything; until they were too hungry to go any further, and then they hid in a shadowed alleyway and _Apparated_ back to the flat. Motioning to Harry to do the same, Draco put his Wizard robes on over his trousers and shirt. "Mitzi will scold if we don't," he said, rolling his eyes. Draco called Mitzi as soon as they were both back in robes.

"The shop was closed," he said. "But we’ll stay the night anyway. We require supper now."

"Certainly," Mitzi said. "I shall bring a romantic dinner for two." She _snapped_ herself back to the Manor and Harry looked toward Draco. 

But Draco had turned away, and was looking out the window. Harry was forced to speak to Draco’s back. "Did she say… ‘romantic’?"

"Of course not," Draco barked out. But Harry thought he saw a blush creep around Draco’s neck. He sat in the chair by the fireplace, not wanting to think about either Mitzi’s odd words or Draco’s pink neck.

X x - x - x X

Harry had expected Mitzi to bring them a modest meal and leave, but this did not seem to be her intention. First, she returned without any food at all, and moved a small, dark, wooden table next to the fireplace. She covered it with a snowy white tablecloth, set it with flowered plates, silver cutlery and four wine glasses that sparkled in the light from the small fire. She lit two long, tapered candles in tall, silver candlesticks. She filled the shorter glasses with ice-cold water, then produced a bottle of red wine and poured the two taller glasses rather full. She arranged a small plate of olives and crackers. Then she nodded once and Draco left the window and moved over to the table by the fireplace. "Dinner is served, Potter," he said. He sounded almost bored, but Harry was very hungry, so he jumped up and sat in the chair on his side of the table.

"What’s for dinner?" he asked, before popping one olive in his mouth. 

Draco turned to Mitzi. "Indeed, Mitzi," he drawled. "What’s for dinner?"

"You shall begin with broiled oysters," she said, looking quite pleased with herself. "Then there will be glazed carrots, potato-celeriac gratin, filets mignons with bordelaise, and for dessert, crème brûlée."

"Er," Harry mumbled.

"Teach Mister Potter about the lovely dinner you will be sharing, Young Master," the House Elf apparently ordered, and then she _snapped_ herself away. 

Draco rolled his eyes as soon as she was gone. "A nice French meal, is all," he said, and sipped his wine. Harry had another olive. "Oysters to start, then cooked carrots. A potato dish made with cheese and some, oh, I think Flarn uses celery and tomato in it? Some beef in a nice sauce and then pudding to finish."

He sipped his wine again, so Harry tried his own. It was surprisingly nice on his tongue. He usually hated wine, finding it to be more bitter than pleasant. This wine, however, was different. It was… smooth, he thought. And rich. He giggled and took another, larger sip. 

Mitzi appeared with two small plates of oysters. The plate of crackers and olives vanished. 

Harry looked at his plate with dismay. He’d never eaten an oyster. Or anything in a shell, for that matter. Draco picked up an oyster in a cloth-wrapped hand and started abusing it with a knife. Harry stared at Draco’s hands, trying to figure out what the hell he was supposed to do in order to obtain something edible. Draco, meanwhile, had done something mystifying to crack open the oyster in his hand, and then remove the flesh from the shell. He popped the thing in his mouth, chewed it three times, swallowed. Then he smiled.

He looked up at Harry and frowned. "Do you not like oysters, then?" he asked. "Flarn is an excellent cook. I assure you, these will be uniformly excellent."

Unable to control it, Harry whimpered. He was so hungry! "I don’t know _how_ ," he admitted, and Draco’s eyebrows climbed nearly into his hair.

"I will show you," he said simply, and dragged his chair around to sit right next to Harry.

It was complicated, and Harry would probably have needed a table full of oysters to really learn how to do it as swiftly and expertly as Draco did, but Harry found that – even when somewhat mangled by his newly managed knifing skills – oysters were pretty good. If… salty.

"They do come from the sea, you know," Draco had said when Harry had pronounced them thus.

Draco finished his own oysters first, and tried to make some small talk as Harry worked to finish opening his last shell. "We had lovely weather for our exploration this afternoon. If it’s dry again tomorrow, perhaps you would like to see more of the city?"

The instant Harry swallowed his last oyster, even before he could answer, Mitzi reappeared. Harry wondered if this meant she was watching them, and he frowned. Then he looked up, and saw that Draco was staring at his mouth. Now they were both frowning. Harry tried to fake a smile.

Mitzi _snapped_ away their dirty oyster plates and knives, then produced their dinner plates. Dinner smelled incredible. It was immediate, and overwhelming. Two olives and three oysters hadn’t made a large dent in Harry’s appetite, and he found himself swaying toward the food even before Mitzi put the plate down in front of him.

Normally under such unusual circumstances, Harry probably would have fretted a bit over the silverware. But tonight he was too hungry to care. He grabbed one of the knives and one of the forks and started with the potato… stuff.

"S’good," he mumbled when Draco asked. He ate a carrot, and was delighted to find it was also delicious. Carrots weren’t exactly among his favourites. 

Mitzi poured them more wine. Harry realized he hadn’t touched his ice water yet, but the wine was so delicious, he didn’t think he cared. He had another taste. "That’s so good," he said. "I don’t usually like wine."

"No?" Draco said. He dabbed at his mouth with his snowy white napkin. "This may be a nicer wine than you are accustomed to. I can admit, Mother is a bit particular about the wine she allows at a Malfoy table. I don’t often appreciate other people’s wine choices, myself."

"Snobby much, Draco?" Harry said, but he couldn’t help but grin. He ate some of the beef and barely managed not to moan. It was damn near melting on his tongue. He ate another piece and smiled at his plate.

"After dinner, Master Draco should take Mister Potter out onto the balcony," Mitzi suddenly interjected. "The sunset should be in full colour by then."

"That will be all for now, Mitzi," Draco said. Mitzi bowed her head very slightly and _snapped_ away again. Harry looked carefully at his host.

"You’re blushing," he announced, perhaps a little too loud. Embarrassed, he drank more of the wine. Draco shook his head no, but Harry could see the blush rise. "Yes, you absolutely are, Draco, I can see it. You’re much too pale to hide something like that." 

"What did you think of Paris?" Draco asked. It was a blatant move to change the subject, but Harry decided to let him get away with it.

"It was pretty brilliant," Harry said happily. "Tomorrow we should actually go inside some of those places, though."

Draco got a confused look on his face. Harry tipped his head to the side, and waited. Then he had a little more wine. Somehow his glass was nearly empty.

Draco looked uncomfortable. "I thought you didn’t like Paris. Isn’t that why you were frowning earlier?"

Harry tried to remember this frown of his. He finished his wine. Mitzi suddenly arrived out of nowhere to put more in his glass. Harry frowned.

"The dinner is to your liking, Mister Potter?" she asked. Harry nodded once. "And the company?" she continued, and Harry felt flustered and didn’t say anything. He felt his cheeks warming.

"That will be _all_ , Mitzi," Draco barked. She raised one eyebrow at him, but vanished nonetheless.

"I like Paris just fine," Harry said, staring at his wine glass instead of Draco. "But your house-elf kind of gives me the creeps. Is she listening to us?"

"She can tell when a plate or glass is emptied," Draco said. He wrinkled his forehead and looked at Harry’s hands. "But… I suppose she can be a little…."

"Intrusive?" Harry tried.

"Overbearing," Draco answered. He laughed slightly. "Finish your dinner and we can go out on the balcony," he said, and ate the last of his beef.

"Like the house-elf wants?" Harry said, but he finished his last carrot anyway.

"I suppose she does," Draco agreed quietly, "but it’s still a good idea, don’t you think?" He waved his hand toward the French doors that led to the balcony, and Harry could see, through the sheer white curtains, that the sun was setting over Rue à la Caché Vue, and it was, indeed, very pretty.

Harry ate his last slice of beef, rubbed his napkin on his mouth, picked up his half-full wine glass, and stood up. "Sure," he agreed rather easily, surprising himself.

Draco dabbed his own face and stood as well. He led the way to the balcony and opened the doors. 

If there hadn’t been a house-elf so invested in him thinking so, Harry might have said out loud that the sunset over Paris’ Wizarding district was more than just a bit romantic. He drank most of the rest of his wine, but deliberately left a swallow at the bottom of the glass, so Mitzi wouldn’t bother them.

"It’s got a lot of purple," he said, feeling inept.

"It does," Draco agreed, "plus the pink at the top and the dark orange swirls over there," he pointed and Harry tried to follow, but there was a building in the way, and his eyesight wasn’t great.

"Where?" Harry asked. Draco tried to show him, their heads closer together, hands close and stretched out toward the skyline.

"You should really stand right behind him," Mitzi suddenly interjected. "Cuddle right up."

"Mitzi, that will be all," Draco said, sounding tired.

"We’ve got this, really." Harry agreed.

"As you wish, Young Master," Mitzi sniffed, and she topped off their wine glasses again. 

"I see it now, I think," Harry said. "It is orange. Funny how good it looks with the purple."

"Mm, hm," Draco said. He took a large swallow of wine and put the glass on the edge of the balcony railing.

"What if it falls?" Harry asked. He pointed at Draco’s glass.

"It won’t," Mitzi answered, putting a dish of pudding down on the small table on the balcony. "The spellwork won’t let anything fall from the balcony, not even from the very edge of the railing. Really," she continued, a sly look teasing the edges of her mouth, "the railing is _very_ sturdy." She put down the second pudding. "No matter how… big... a man is," she dropped her gaze toward Harry’s crotch and seemed to be about to continue.

"That will be all, Mitzi!" Draco said more sharply, and Mitzi bowed once and disappeared.

Shaking his head over Mitzi’s behavior, Harry picked up a pudding and leaned against the railing as he dug in with his spoon. The first taste was a revelation. "Holy shite," he said, staring at his dessert. "This is fucking amazing."

"Isn’t it?" Draco agreed, and sucked a little more from his own spoon.

Feeling a little loose and fuzzy, Harry stared at Draco’s lips.

"So," Draco said, watching Harry stare. "Do you want to see Wizarding tourism stuff tomorrow, or Muggle, or what?"

"Er," Harry said, watching Draco start to pull another spoonful of crème brûlée from his little dish. "Dunno. What do you think is better?"

"Well," Draco said, and he looked pink all of a sudden. "There is this Muggle place I heard about from a friend…."

"Yeah?" Harry said, thinking this had to be good.

"It’s called…" Draco hesitated. "Called the Musée de l'Erotisme. It was founded by these, two men, and it’s, er, racy?"

"I guessed. From the name," Harry said. They were both blushing now. "I think we walked by it today?" Unthinking, Harry scraped the last bite of pudding from his small dish, and Mitzi took it from his hand before he could put it back down on the tiny table.

"The Musée de l'Erotisme is a marvelous idea," Mitzi interjected. "Many beautiful men, enjoying one another. Paintings of handsome men. Blonds with dark-haired men as well. Oh yes. The lovely paintings and temple carvings, and the fertility idols," she continued. "Together you will enjoy seeing quite a lot of large, hard–"

"That. Will. Be. All, Mitzi!" Draco shouted, his face as red as a beet.

"You should go together," Mitzi said one more time, then she _snapped_ herself away, taking the dirty pudding dishes.

"I'm so, so sorry," Draco said. He turned away from Harry and put both his hands on the railing.

"She’s, er. Surely she’s not your fault," Harry said, confused about whether or not to put a comforting hand on Draco’s back. Shoulder. It should be his shoulder. He went ahead and tried it, and was relieved when Draco relaxed the slightest bit under the warmth of Harry’s hand.

"She’s my house-elf," Draco started to say.

"Yes, but she obviously has her own mind!" Harry interrupted, and they both laughed. Harry felt his hand slip to the bottom of Draco’s shoulder blade, but he left it there.

"I’d, er, probably be willing to check out that museum you mentioned," Harry said, and he moved a little closer to Draco. Just to relieve a little pressure in the muscles of his upper arm, but Draco relaxed a little more, and that made Harry’s hand slip just a little further.

"How well does she know you?" Harry wondered aloud.

Draco turned to look down into Harry’s eyes, and the little half-step he took brought their chests closer.

Harry swallowed and cut himself off from thinking about… anything.

"She helped raised me," Draco said quietly. "Since I was a newborn baby."

"So she knows you pretty well," Harry said, and nodded once.

"I guess." Draco conceded. "I certainly don’t tell her everything."

"So, is she right about, er…."

"About what?"

"Er, nothing," Harry said stupidly. "It’s pretty dark now. Should we go back inside?"

"Er, okay," Draco said. He stepped away from Harry and walked through the open French doors. Harry picked up both wine glasses and followed Draco. The wine was much too good to abandon, even if it was making his head muzzy and giving Mitzi an excuse to bother them.

Actually, that gave him an idea.

"Mitzi!" he called, and Mitzi appeared.

"Mister Potter," she inquired, her face carefully blank now.

"Can we have another bottle of this wine, please?"

Mitzi looked at Draco, who nodded once. "Certainly, Mister Potter," Mitzi said, and she snapped herself away again.

"You like it that much?" Draco said.

"It’s really good," Harry agreed easily. "But also, if we can get her to bring us the bottle, then she’ll leave us alone, right?"

"I think she will," Draco said, and he smiled indulgently at Harry, then dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Did the Young Masters want to be left alone then?" Mitzi asked, putting a full, unopened bottle of wine on the table where they had eaten dinner.

"Yes!" they both yelped in surprised tandem.

"And the Masters don’t need me to prepare the bedroom first?"

"Er," Draco said. He twisted his hands together once and looked toward Harry’s chest.

"Of course, Mister Potter could like to fuck Master Draco on the balcony," Mitzi suggested calmly, as though this suggestion fit both the unexpected evening and their tentative new friendship.

They stared at her in silent shock.

"Young Master is a virgin, Mister Potter," she said, in a confidential whisper that they could both hear easily. "But he longs to be filled up, and you're just the man he hopes will do it, oh, yes. And isn't he lovely to look at? Mm. He’d be even prettier with his ankles on your shoulders, I expect."

Harry and Draco’s jaws had dropped, and then Draco started making a miserable, spluttering sound.

"And he does owe you, don’t you think?" Mitzi continued. "Wouldn’t a blowjob be a good way for him to say thank you?" she mused. "I know you're the one he dreams about when he practices for blowjobs by sucking on large dildos. He used to do that quite a lot, really."

"I…" Harry said, then his brain shut down in favour of his dick. Draco whined and covered his face with his hands.

"I _do_ believe you'll enjoy fucking him," Mitzi said earnestly. She did not seem to be paying any attention to Draco at all. "Because when he masturbates, he’s terribly enthusiastic. He slides a dildo in between his lovely, tight, creamy arse cheeks, you see, and his erection gets so rosy and damp, and he calls out your name quite a bit, too." 

"Mitzi!" Draco finally wailed, but she ignored him. 

Harry felt horrible, and completely unable to stop her. His face and neck were burning with embarrassment, and he desperately needed to sit down, but he couldn’t see well enough to find a chair. He couldn’t see much of anything – other than Mitzi and Draco.

"He plays with his nipples, and he strokes the lovely soft skin on his stomach, and he fondles his bollocks. He has very sensitive skin, all over. I think, if you just ask, he’d do almost anything you wanted. He’s been writing about it in his diaries for a few years now. Ever since he first realized he wanted you to fuck him." She winked at Harry, and he thought he might fall over.

She paused. "You do have a _big_ penis, yes? Because he’s always assumed you did, but…."

"Mitzi," Harry managed to choke out.

"Yes?" she said, her tone polite.

"You have embarrassed him, and now you need to leave and not come back." Harry was horrified by the sound of his own voice. It was a hoarse whisper, he thought, like he was about to cry. Or maybe like he was turned on.

"Not… not come back?" she said, looking surprised.

"Yes," he said with as intense an authority as he could manage with a blush he felt sure was about to set his cheeks and eyebrows on fire. At least his voice sounded less rough now. "Don’t come back here, until… until Draco calls you back. _By name_."

"I, Master Draco?" Mitzi said, uncertain. Draco nodded fervently. So, with a shrug, Mitzi _snapped_ herself away.

"Draco, you poor thing." Harry said, his face still so hot it kind of hurt, "Er… how much of that is true?"

Draco turned enormous, miserable eyes to Harry. He said nothing.

Harry took a deep breath and thought about how, if he were embarrassed, Draco must be triply so. On the other hand, this had the potential to change _everything_. Harry shook off his light outer robes and unbuttoned the top two buttons on his Muggle-style button down shirt. Then he toed off his shoes without sitting down.

Draco stared at him, then took an enormous, unseemly swig of wine. It finished off the glass, but Mitzi did not reappear, and Harry saw Draco’s shoulders go slightly less rigid and high. Encouraged, Harry took a drink from his own glass. The wine was still excellent. 

Harry stepped closer to Draco, and Draco didn’t move away, so Harry took another step. Draco swallowed. Harry took one of Draco’s cold hands in his own, but this still didn’t seem to be enough, so he stood up higher on his toes, and kissed Draco’s cheek. "Was any of that true?" Harry asked again. Draco just looked at the floor.

"I see," Harry said. He put his wine glass down on something behind him, hoping it wouldn’t fall. Harry then unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, and pulled it from the waistband of his denims.

Draco tried to do that casual raised eyebrow thing Harry had seen a thousand times at school, but he seemed too unnerved to pull it off. He looked like a frightened rabbit instead of calm and collected. Harry reached up and stroked the eyebrow gently back into place. Then Harry took off his shirt and dropped it on the floor. "I’d love to know," he said very softly, "just how much of that is true. Is any of it true?"

Draco gave Harry a tiny little nod.

"True enough for, er..." Harry swallowed, squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He might not want to give that manipulative, cruel little elf the satisfaction, but she was gone and Draco was here. Here, and gorgeous. And miserable. Apparently gay. Clearly in need of reassurance. "True enough for me to, er, do this?" Harry stepped back so Draco could see him better, and then reached for his belt.

"Yes," Draco whispered in a very small, amazed little voice, watching as Harry prepared to undress.

Harry unbuckled his belt, unzipped his flies, looked at the ceiling once, and then dropped his trousers and pants down with a swift motion.

"Oh, Merlin’s beard," Draco whispered, and Harry laughed.

"Nope," he said, feeling too daring, but unwilling to stop. He stroked his half-hard cock and felt himself stiffen fast. "Those are my pubes." He winked. Draco stared at Harry’s cock. "So, er, I’m a little out on a limb, here…" Harry said, when Draco said nothing, just silently watched Harry stroke his erection.

Draco fell to his knees and put his hands on Harry’s hips.

"Oh, Christ," Harry said.

"Who?" asked Draco. Then he took the tip of Harry's erection into his mouth.

"Oh, Christ!" Harry whimpered. He put his hands in Draco’s silken hair, and Draco took more of his cock into his mouth. Harry’s hips started to fuck as though they were in charge, and Draco’s grip tightened, preventing Harry from choking him with cock.

"Oh, Christ." Harry’s voice turned raspy as he imagined filling Draco’s mouth and throat with his cock. "I can’t stand up much longer." He steadied himself on Draco’s shoulders.

"Okay," Draco said. He started to stand up.

"Wait!" Harry cried, horrified at the thought of his blowjob ending before it began. But Draco threw his own robes, shirt and trousers on the floor, showing off a strange, sexy set of underthings that Harry stared at avidly. Draco wore a skin tight, black singlet and thigh-long, skin tight, black pants that lovingly curved around his cock and balls as though they were madly in love with them. Harry could see that Draco was hard and leaking. He picked Harry up in his arms, and carried him to the bedroom.

"Hey," Harry half objected, but actually, it felt nice. So he put his arms around Draco’s neck and kissed him there. Draco put him down on an enormous bed.

Harry looked around the room as Draco stripped his singlet off over his head. If he’d thought the bed was enormous, it was only because he hadn’t seen the room. It was opulent as hell. Blue and green, dark wood furniture, and a fireplace large enough for Hagrid. One large grandfather clock with Roman numerals stood in a corner. No posters or pictures decorated the walls, no knickknacks adorned the shelves. It looked as impersonal as a hotel room.

"Is this…" he paused, feeling a slight discomfort, "your parents’ bedroom?"

"Nope," Draco said. "It’s mine." Face pink, he took a bottle of lube from a drawer in the bedside table and put it where Harry could see it. Then he shimmied out of his pants and sat on the bed.

Harry pounced on him. "Good," he said in relief, and then they were kissing. Harry took their cocks into his right hand and began to wank them both off.

"Salazar," Draco panted into Harry’s mouth. He looked down and watched his and Harry's cocks disappear and reappear in the tight circle of Harry’s fist. "That’s fucking amazing."

"It is," Harry agreed, and he bit gently at Draco’s neck. "But fucking is better."

"Oh!" Draco wailed, and he came.

"Damn right!" Harry said, and he rolled them, laying Draco on his back. Harry rubbed his erection into Draco’s cock and the mess of come. 

Draco’s eyes went enormous again, and then he grabbed Harry’s arse and pulled. "Auunngh!" Harry groaned, and came. When he regained his composure, Harry kissed Draco again, on the lips, very gently. "Now can you tell me, how much of what Mitzi said is true?"

"Er," Draco said, and now he looked confused. "Most of it? Almost all of it? I can’t remember everything she said anymore." He smiled his embarrassment and caressed Harry’s side, smiling wider when Harry groaned and shifted to cuddle up next to him.

"Okay," Harry said, speaking into Draco’s neck, "I’ll just ask about everything I can remember."

Draco said nothing, but Harry could feel the heat of his neck increase, so he kissed him there and spared him the eye contact.

"Could I fuck you on the balcony?"

"With really good privacy spells? Yeah," Draco whispered.

"Are you a virgin?"

"Yes," Draco said, even more quietly. 

"So you’ve never done anything like this with anyone else?" 

"No," Draco whispered.

"Does that mean I get to be your first?" Harry snaked an arm around Draco’s chest and squeezed.

"Do you want to be?" 

Harry thought he’d misheard, but when he looked at his face, Draco blushed and ducked his head. 

"Coming all over you wasn’t proof enough that I want to fuck you? That I think you’re hot?" Harry asked, incredulous. 

"So you mean this is real?" Draco said into Harry’s neck. "You actually… want me, for me? Not because I owe you something, or because Mitzi put you up to this?"

Harry giggled a little, rubbed his dick against Draco’s thigh and shook his head. He pressed himself into Draco’s side and reached to caress his arse. Then he murmured into his sex-damp skin. "Draco, Mitzi pisses me off. She couldn’t convince me to do _anything_ I didn’t want to. It’s you. You're fucking hot. I fancy you."

He took Draco’s hand in his own and caressed the other boy’s wrist. "If we don’t fuck, it will be because _you_ turned _me_ down. I am not going to say no to you tonight. I want to get hard again, as soon as I can, and slide my dick into your arse, and fuck you, as hard or gentle as you want, until I have another massive orgasm. This time, inside your body. And I want you to come, too. Either while I’m topping you, or after, in my mouth."

"Oh, holy fuck," Draco panted. "Yes, I want that, too."

"So, there’s only one more question, I guess." Harry shifted up onto one elbow to look Draco in the eye. Draco stared at him, wide eyed and overwhelmed, so Harry reached over to stroke Draco’s cock. Draco winced a little.

"I’ll be oversensitive for a bit," he whispered, and Harry nodded.

Harry reached for the mixed mess of come on Draco’s stomach and dragged his fingertips through it. Then he kissed Draco’s cheek and whispered in his ear. "Open your legs for me?" Draco did as he was asked. Harry found Draco’s arsehole and started to stroke it gently with his come-wet fingertips.

"Oh!" Draco said, his tone helpless and breathy. He reached for the lube and handed it to Harry. Harry put some on his fingers and kissed Draco as he swirled his fingers over Draco’s hole.

Harry had only half deflated after coming all over Draco’s stomach, and now he felt his cock start to revive. "It’s good to be eighteen," he giggled, and rubbed his new erection against Draco’s strong thigh. Draco’s legs fell further apart and Harry pushed gently at his furl, until he could slip his fingertip in. Draco whimpered.

"You…" Draco panted. "You had one more question?"

"Yeah," Harry said, only half-pleased that Draco had managed to remember. He put Draco’s hand on his cock. Draco gripped and squeezed. "It was just this," Harry said, and he nuzzled Draco’s neck again, then bit him one more time because he couldn’t resist. " _Do_ I have a big penis?"

"You fucker," Draco laughed, and he pulled his knees up and scooted down a little, encouraging Harry to finger fuck him harder.

"I hope so," Harry agreed, and he kissed Draco’s mouth.

"I’d have to do," Draco panted, "a thorough, careful comparison. You know, to see if you’re bigger than me."

"Mm." Harry slid a second finger into Draco. "I could arrange that. What would you give me for such… access?"

"Access?" Draco said, distracted. "Like, for another finger?"

"You’re taking two," Harry said, wriggling a little closer to Draco so more of their skin was in contact. "Do you really want a third so soon?"

"I…" Draco closed his eyes and breathed in deep and slow. Harry felt him relax very slightly around his fingers. "Yes." 

He paused, and Harry slid in a third. "Is that good?" Harry asked, kissing Draco’s cheek.

"It will be," Draco said, and turned so they could kiss properly on the mouth. They kissed once, slow and sweet while Harry stroked and stretched Draco’s hole. Then, sensing tension, Harry looked at Draco. "Tell me what you want," Harry said gently. 

"Find my sweet spot?" Draco said, not quite looking Harry in the eye.

"Oh, Jesus," Harry said, embarrassed. "Of course." He moved so he could stroke Draco properly, and gently rearranged his fingers so he could sweep up towards Draco’s cock from the inside. "There?" he said, but Draco just shook his head ‘no’ once and didn’t open his eyes.

"There?" Harry asked, trying again.

It was on the third try when Draco gasped, opened his eyes, and shoved his body down, the better to fuck himself on Harry’s fingers. 

Harry concentrated on the right spot; watching as Draco’s erection filled out again and throbbed in time with Harry’s gentle thrusts and Draco’s heavy pulse. Harry desperately wanted to fuck him, but told himself that this was Draco’s first time with a real person, and Harry needed to prove that a man was a thousand times better than a toy. He caught sight of the grandfather clock. _When the second hand reaches the six,_ he told himself. _Then I can ask to fuck him._ For three or four minutes, Harry finger fucked Draco with his right hand and stroked Draco’s soft warm skin with his left. He kissed Draco’s mouth once, but Draco seemed too distracted to kiss back properly, so Harry – tempted to suck Draco’s pretty cock but unwilling to hasten Draco’s orgasm – sucked on Draco’s nipples instead. He started on Draco’s right nipple, alternating between his lips and his teeth, until Draco shied away slightly. "Too much?" Harry murmured, and when Draco seemed to nod, Harry began to abuse Draco’s left nipple the same way.

Shortly before Harry’s self imposed deadline arrived, Draco reached down and pulled back his thighs. "Enough now," he panted. "Fuck me. Fuck me, Harry."

"Thank you," Harry panted, feeling like an idiot but still so grateful. Still feeling slightly drunk and therefore wary of doing something stupid, Harry moved gently and slowly to pull his fingers from Draco, then he knelt between Draco’s legs. He put Draco’s calves on his shoulders and took up the lube to put more on his fingers. Then he stroked his cock a few times till he thought he was slippery enough.

"Please," Draco sighed. "Stop making me wait?"

Harry nodded and leaned forward, concentrating. Even after all the preparation, Draco’s body didn’t accept Harry’s cockhead right away. Eventually Harry found himself aiming his cock with his hand, teasing Draco’s furl with swirling movements. But then, suddenly, his tip was in. 

"Jesus fucking Christ," Harry breathed, and stopped himself from moving by sheer force of will.

"Why did you stop?" Draco said shyly, pushing his long hair away from his eyes.

"I need to go slow, wait til you’re ready," Harry panted. "Gotta make this really good for you." He hung his head for a moment, working to reclaim some composure.

"I told you to stop making me wait!" Draco said annoyed, and he reached for Harry’s arse. "Fuck me!"

"Ngh?" Harry said as Draco pulled on him, and only stopped pulling once Harry’s entire cock was inside his body. "Oh _fuck_ ," Harry said. He opened his eyes and drank in the sight of Draco below him: stuffed full of cock, thighs up and arse splayed, rim stretched around the thick base of Harry’s dick. 

"Holy shit," Harry said quietly. "I thought you were beautiful _before_...."

"What… what do you mean?" Draco said, looking slightly worried.

"I mean, you look amazing on my cock," Harry said, and pulled out most of the way. He watched his dick emerge from Draco’s rosy hole. "I have never seen anything more…" he paused.

"More what?" Draco said, sounding more sure of himself.

"Dick-hardening," Harry concluded, and shrugged. It wasn’t elegant wording, but it was still true. "I am going to put this memory in my Pensieve and wank to it for the rest of my life."

"Oh yeah?" Draco said, and he smirked up at Harry. "Then we’d better put on a hell of a show."

Smiling, Harry leaned over Draco’s body and began to slide his cock in and out of Draco’s pink hole. "Sounds good to me," he agreed. He fucked Draco gently. "Like this?" he asked, and Draco grabbed at his back and nodded. 

"Yes," Draco said, "Only harder."

Harry attempted to obey. He braced himself better with his elbows on the bed and shoved once, hard. "Good?" he asked. 

"Harder?" Draco said, and Harry did. "Harder!" Draco wailed, and Harry slammed into Draco’s hips. "Ungh!" Draco agreed, and Harry kept up the pace. But Draco allowed Harry to thrust into him no more than a few dozen times before he petted Harry gently, making little noises and indicating that he wanted Harry to stop.

"My turn to be on top," Draco said, when he finally had all of Harry’s attention on his face.

"I don’t want to bottom right now..." Harry replied; clearly confused, but he allowed Draco to roll them over and uncouple them. Then Draco positioned himself over Harry’s erection, grabbed it, and tried to lower himself onto Harry’s cock.

"Oh!" Harry said, finally understanding, and he helped Draco guide himself down around Harry’s cock. Draco sank down slowly, but then, instead of bracing himself to rise and fall, he sat up straight and put his hands into his hair. Then he bent backwards, showing off his stomach and chest. "For your Pensieve," he said coyly, and managed to pull himself up slightly.

Harry reached for Draco’s nipples and stroked Draco’s abs when Draco leaned back. Then Draco sank down again, and Harry pinched Draco’s nipples once, hard. "Hey!" Draco said, but then he smiled.

"For my Pensieve," Harry said with innocence. Draco giggled. He rose and fell. Once, twice, half a dozen times.

"That has to be killing your knees," Harry said, worried.

"I can handle it," Draco said. "I want to make it good for you, too." He briefly looked into Harry’s eyes, then looked away.

"You are," Harry gushed, and Draco took Harry’s hands and pulled them up to his nipples once more.

Soon, Draco braced himself on Harry’s shoulders, too turned on to pose and preen. His cock slapped gently against Harry’s stomach as he shoved himself down onto Harry’s erection, over and over, his exclamations getting ever more breathy and incoherent. Whispering his encouragement, Harry pulled himself up to lick Draco’s nipples again. To suck them roughly while he grabbed Draco’s tight arse with one hand. "Can you come like this?" Draco asked. 

"It would be easier if I were on top," Harry admitted, too embarrassed to look Draco in the eye.

They rolled over again and Draco spread his legs. He reached for them, then stopped. Not yet back in Draco’s arse, Harry looked at him, a question in his eyes.

"Is this what you want?" Draco said. "Do you like it when I pull my legs up high?"

"It’s hot as fuck," Harry said, "but I bet a lot of other positions are, too?" His word curled up at the end, like a question. Harry wanted so badly for this to happen over and over again. 

"Want to try something else then?" Draco asked, and – relieved to see that Draco was feeling nervous too – Harry nodded.

"Okay, I, er, I have an idea," Draco said. He rolled over and dropped lightly off the bed.

"What?" Harry said, concerned that something was wrong.

But Draco walked over to the wardrobe and opened the one large door. On the inside was a large mirror.

"Bring it closer to the bed?" Draco asked. 

Grinning, Harry looked around. "My wand is in the other room," he said, and strode through the doorway. He grabbed the first robe he saw and pulled the wand from the pocket, but it was Draco’s old one. He stared at it for a moment, then decided using it would be unforgivably rude. He grabbed the other robe and dragged it into the bedroom. "Just a sec," he said, and rummaged in first one, then the other pocket. "Here it is!" he cried with delight, yanking his own wand from the right pocket of his robe. He dropped the robe and dropped Draco’s old wand on top of it, then gently levitated the large wardrobe till it sat three feet from the foot of the bed. 

"Look about right? he said, grinning at Draco, who nodded – pleased but looking a little shy again.

They opened the wardrobe door again and Harry sat down on the end of the bed, right in front of it. Then Harry tossed his own wand to the floor. It rolled a foot or two, until it lay near to Draco’s and the heap of his discarded robe.

Harry took his cock in hand and stroked it. He was still quite hard. "Sit on my lap?" Harry asked, less shyly than he expected. Draco really seemed to be enjoying this. Enjoying _him_. Draco moved to straddle Harry, and Harry stopped him. "Face the mirror?" he whispered.

Draco stopped and opened his mouth. He looked into Harry’s eyes for a heartbeat. Then he closed it and turned around. "Okay," he said, not looking at Harry’s face. He bent over and pushed his arse toward Harry.

"Whoa, big boy!" Harry said, and took Draco’s arse into his hands. "A little lower," he said, still smiling. He guided Draco’s arse toward his erection.

Together they wriggled themselves back into place, until Draco was sitting not only on Harry's lap, but with Harry’s cock fully inside him again. Taller than Harry, he could lean back and curl around just enough so they could kiss.

"I like this position," Draco said into Harry’s temple.

"Enjoy the ride," Harry said, and – holding tight to Draco’s hips – he began to move.

"Oh," Draco cooed, and he braced his feet firmly on the floor. Then he began to help. "Touch my cock?" he requested, and Harry tried. "That looks so fucking brilliant," Draco said, staring at their reflections in front of him. "But if I don’t come again soon I think my dick might explode."

Harry let go of Draco’s cock and concentrated on pounding his arse from underneath. "Come for me, gorgeous," he grunted as he thrust. Draco said nothing, just jerked at his cock faster. "You're so fucking beautiful," Harry said, looking over Draco’s shoulder into the mirror. He could see his cock sliding in and out of Draco’s body, see Draco’s flushed skin, watch Draco wanking himself. 

"You gonna want to fuck me again?" Draco panted, finally able to ask for what he wanted without blushing. His hand was nearly a blur on his cock now; he seemed barely able to speak.

"Fuck, yes," Harry said with enthusiasm and Draco began to come.

"Oh!" he cried, and Harry fucked him even harder. "Oh!" Draco moaned, and Harry fucked him right through it. His thighs hurt, but he didn’t care. "Oh!" Draco wailed, and milked the tip of his dick for just a bit more come. Harry watched him and knew he would want to remember that move. Apparently he liked extra stimulation there at the end of orgasm. "Oh," Draco sighed, and Harry picked him up just enough to roll him onto the high bed face first. Then Harry stood and slid his cock right back into Draco’s body.

"Good?" he asked, and Draco turned his head, looked up sleepily at Harry’s face, and smiled. 

"Yeah…" he agreed, so Harry pounded him hard, and finally came again.

They crawled into the bed together, sticky, sweaty and uncaring, and fell fast asleep.

X x - x - x X

They didn’t wake until morning. Harry opened his eyes to a dimly lit and unfamiliar room. There was a small table next to his side of the bed, and on it he found a large, cool glass of water, his glasses and his wand. He put on his glasses and sat up in bed to drink the water. Draco, he realized, was starting to sit up next to him. The curtains began to open. Outside looked sunny and dry.

Harry yawned, put down the glass, and stretched. Then he looked at Draco, who was holding his wand and staring at it.

Do your curtains open automatically when you wake up?" Harry asked.

"No…" Draco said. He sounded shocked.

"Then how did they open?" Harry asked, and carefully scratched at his balls. He had half a stiffy and wondered if Draco might be up for some morning sex.

"I opened them," Draco said in a small voice. He looked at Harry, who looked at Draco. Then down at Draco’s wand.

"Wait," Harry said, confused. "You opened them… with your _wand_? That wand?"

"It was on the bedside table when I woke. Mitzi must have been here, or one of the other elves. Our robes are off the floor, the wardrobe is back where it belongs, and our wands were both next to us, on the bedside tables. I wanted the curtains open, so, I didn’t even think about it. I just… opened them."

"Well," Harry said, excited, "try something else!"

"Yeah?" Draco said. 

Harry nodded. 

"Yeah!" Draco said, and he jumped out of bed.

Soon the wireless Harry hadn’t even noticed in the corner was blasting, all the clothes from the wardrobe were dancing around the room to the beat, the curtains were swishing back and forth in time with the music, and the walls were no longer plain green brocade, but covered with rainbows and laughing unicorns.

"It works!" Draco screamed, dancing naked with his clothes. "It works again!"

Harry sat at the end of the bed, grinning hugely. Draco twirled his wand again and the ceiling began to flash with golden lights.

"It’s like a disco in here!" Harry said, and Draco shrugged like he didn’t know the word, then turned around, presenting his arse to Harry, and shimmied.

"Why are you all the way over there?" Draco giggled, and laughing, Harry jumped up to dance.

After two songs, they weren’t dancing so much as rubbing and kissing, but Draco had yet to let go of his wand. "I wish I understood what happened," Harry said as Draco cast spells to close the curtains and dim all the lights except the flashing golden ceiling. "It’s so weird! Don’t you want to know what happened?" 

Draco shrugged and bit Harry’s earlobe gently, and Harry almost forgot what he had been saying.

Then Draco conjured a bit of lube and started to stroke his own cock, and Harry remembered. "Don’t you want to ask Ollivander what happened?" he said, and Draco looked up at him surprised.

"Hell no," he said. "How embarrassing! Just fuck me in the shower instead, okay?"

"Gnuh," Harry said. "Okay!"

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

X x X x - Fin! - x X x X

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 


End file.
